Harmony in Discord
by ADawnofBlueFire
Summary: He was a god cast out from his rightful home for his crimes. She was a woman whose powers had driven her to the edge of madness. Sometimes, two wrongs can make a right. Loki/OC
1. An Unlikely Pair

The sky was the same steel gray it had been all day, making it difficult to tell what time it was. Amidst the shadows of New York's tall buildings, the figure barely registered the failing light. Why should he? His whole life was darkness now.

He had been a king once. A prince before that. But few of the ghosts of his past would recognize him now, cast out…. Stripped of his powers, accused (and as he was willing to admit to himself, guilty) of fomenting death and destruction, he had gone from one of the most powerful and skilled beings in the Nine Realms to the wretched creature he was now – weak, soft, and above all, _mortal_.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. The ragged shreds of his pride wouldn't let him start to dig through garbage cans again until his hunger was overwhelming. So instead, he huddled in the alley that was his temporary home and tried to shrug deeper into his coat.

"Well God of Mischief, you were harder to find than I thought." He whipped his head around in the direction of the voice. It came from an unimposing figure standing at the mouth of the alleyway. The man resisted the urge to slink away further into the alley. It had been so long since someone had spoken directly to him.

"I have to hand it to you," the figure said, "for someone who lost the use of his normal resources, you were able to hide quite well. And you look nothing like what I expected." The voice was high pitched, but did not bear the tremor of youth. He suspected the figure was a female. The man had no access to a mirror, but he knew the figure was probably correct in her assessment of his appearance. After his fall to earth, one of the first things he had done was to cut his dark locks, sawing at the hair with a knife. He cut as close to his skull as he could, until he was left with a heap of ruined strands in front of him. He performed this same ritual on a regular basis. Further, he had been living on the streets so long that what little excess flesh had been on his lanky frame melted away, taking with it more precious weight. He ate only irregularly, and never well. He hadn't bathed in months. He wore the only clothes he owned, and they grew more frayed and dirty with each passing day. No, the man had no reason to doubt that he bore little resemblance to who he had been mere months before.

"While undoubtedly that half-starved look of yours might be appealing to some of the modeling agencies on Madison Avenue, I don't believe you achieved it by choice." The girl tossed him a white paper bag, which landed at his feet. "Enjoy." The delicious, heavenly smell of _food _wafted from the bag, and he scrambled to reach the contents inside. He was barely conscious of what he was eating, aware only that it was warm, solid, and not in the least spoiled or rotten. The food was gone in short order, leaving him feeling replete for the first time in recent memory. The figure merely watched impassively.

"How did you find me?" the man asked after a time. "Let's just say that I was able to get my hands on information that you might be somewhere in the city and I was able to use resources which are… unique to me in order to locate you," replied the girl in the hood. He'd once been known for his silver tongue, but he had no time for pleasantries these days. "What do you want?" he inquired bluntly. "To help you," said the figure.

"Why bother to help me?" he asked skeptically. "Why go out of your way to do anything for me when you would likely be rewarded handsomely for revealing my location?" Although the girl's faced was obscured by her hood, he could nevertheless see her smile. "We want the same thing, but at the moment, we are incapable of achieving it by ourselves." He snorted. "And what exactly is that?" The smile beneath the hood grew wider. "Revenge, of course."

Revenge. It had been long weeks since he had thought of that heady sentiment. After his first mad scramble to hide himself, he had burned with the need for it. He'd schemed and plotted and fantasized about what he would do when he managed to return to his proper realm. He would show them all what came of not giving him his proper due. Such thoughts were easy to sustain at first, but as hours trickled inexorably into days, then weeks, and now months, survival had replaced retribution as his main concern. Still, even though the desire was blunted by the harsh reality of his current situation, the figure's words were enough to pique his curiosity.

"You claim to be able to give me vengeance I crave, yet you offer no explanation as to how you intend to do so. What makes you so special?" The hooded smile didn't waiver. "To answer your question, I must ask you a question first. Tell me, what do you know of mutants?" The man sat back, ruminating for a moment. "I'm only vaguely familiar with them. From what I understand, they are human, but possessed of abilities not seen in the rest of humanity."

"Simplistic, but correct," said the hooded figure. "To my knowledge, no mutant possesses a wide range of talents, but many possess more than one ability or mutation. And though their powers may be limited, a select few are quite powerful. I am one such."

"You are a mutant?" he asked. "I am," the figure stated simply. "And what ability are you gifted with that makes you so certain that you can aid me?" The figure drew a little closer then, shrouding herself further in darkness. "Empathy." The man snorted then. "You can understand what people are feeling. Good for you." The figure just kept smiling. "You misunderstand me. Perhaps I should have said detective and projective empathy. I am able to sense the emotions of others and manipulate them." The man began to look at the figure more intently. He waited. "I am capable of knowing… intimately knowing… what the people around me are feeling and I can shape those feelings according to my whim. I can make them feel sadness, anger, fear, passion, joy, and trust. I can do it so subtly that they aren't even aware that they are being affected. And I can do it to several hundred people at once. Surely you can appreciate how affective that could be?"

The man did. He really did. When he was possessed of his full powers, he could do many things. Lob fire balls. Raise automatons to fight on his behalf. Construct buildings. Even conjure realistic illusions. But nothing he did could have the direct effect on another being's psyche as this girl claimed to be capable of. "My powers allowed me to find you," said the figure. "I've been roaming the city for a few weeks, sifting through the fog of emotions of the populace and seeking out any signature that might be you. I've gone through a lot of dead ends, but I managed to detect just the right mix of despair, anger, and near-hopelessness that led me here."

Yes, such abilities could be useful indeed. Paired with some of his own powers, he and the girl could make a formidable team. Yet he could not comprehend how the hooded figure could use her own abilities to aid in the return of his. "Useful, I will admit. But how exactly is that supposed to help me?" asked the man.

"It's quite simple. The return of your powers and your welcome to Asgard is predicated upon your redemption, is it not?" The man nodded in ascent. "I can't actually cause you to seek atonement – that would require abilities I do not possess. But redemption is less a conscious choice than you might think. A good bit of it is an emotional component. All I need to do is slowly and carefully manipulate your emotions over the course of a week or two, and we should accomplish a good facsimile of remorse."

"I don't know how I feel about that. I don't like the thought of a little ape being in my mind," said the man. The figure turned her head to the side slightly. "A point, I grant," she said, "but one that must be endured if you want to regain your place. I assure you, your emotions cannot be affected by my powers beyond a certain distance, so any long-term action of my part would require my continued presence. Further, I have no desire to see you redeemed in the long term. It would allow you to rejoin your foster family, but would do very little to make sure that you uphold your end of the bargain."

The man looked at the girl suspiciously. "And what exactly would be my end of the bargain?" The smile on the figure's face took on a nasty edge. "Nothing impossible. I have no desire to conquer and rule this world, if that is that you're asking. No. I want those hypocritical wretches who offered me up as a sacrificial lamb to pay for what they did to me. I want to see their lives fall around them before burning to ash. And I want them to know that though I am the instrument of their despair, they brought their misery on themselves."

This was an answer that the man could respect. Not a pretty answer or a noble one, but honest and compelled by the same dark forces that fed his own desires. "So," said the girl in the hood, "I help you take back what is rightfully yours, and in exchange, you help me to satisfy my own debts." It seemed a more than fair exchange. The man might even give the girl what she wanted, if she played her part well. But there was no need to let her know that.

"Do you accept my proposal, Loki of Asgard?" queried the figure, saying his name for the first time. The plan was mad. It was insane. And it might just get him what he wanted. He'd be willing to accept aid from the most disgusting creature in the universe if it meant attaining the revenge he thought had been denied him. "It seems we could be of mutual benefit to one another, but where I was raised, it was considered bad business to start an alliance off if you do not know your ally's name," said the God of Mischief.

The hooded figure chuckled. "How rude of me not to introduce myself. You'll forgive me if I don't supply the name on my birth certificate. I had it a long time, but I cast it off when I was betrayed by my kind."

The figure stepped into a circle of light from a lamp in the alley and for the first time, Loki could make out something of the outline of her face. Most striking however was how the light reflected in her eyes. They seemed to glow a deep blue in the lamp's artificial rays. "I was no longer part of their perfect, ordered little world. They took away my opportunity to live an ordered little life. So I became something different. Something opposite. An agent of chaos, if you will."

The girl smiled then and her eyes glowed brighter, and in them Loki could see elation, and anger, and sorrow, and even a hint of madness. "You may call me Eris."


	2. Homecoming

_Sorry for the break between updates. I'm working two jobs and taking a summer class, so it has been a little crazy around here. I'll try to be a little more prompt with my next chapter._

"Home sweet home," Eris said as she turned the key in the lock. She stepped through the door and flipped a light switch. The apartment was small, shabby and sparsely furnished, but to Loki, who had been living on the fetid streets of the city for months, it was palatial.

In the light, he was able to get a better look at his new compatriot. She appeared utterly ordinary. Shorter than him by nearly a foot, she possessed a face that was neither pretty nor plain, and she was nearly as pale as he was. Light brown hair pulled neatly behind her head. Jeans, knee-high black boots, a charcoal grey shirt, black hooded jacket. Her figure hinted at athleticism, but was otherwise unremarkable. Only her eyes, expressive and electric blue, set her apart from countless mortals he had seen in his time in exile. She could walk down any street in the city looking as she did now and would likely never draw a second glance.

Eris dropped her keys into a nearby bowl, and turned to face him. She wrinkled her nose. "Your clothes are starting to fall apart and you smell like shit, but I suppose those things can wait until the morning." She nodded towards a ragged old leather couch with a tatty knit blanket on it. "You can sleep there."

She yawned and stretched, acting for all the world like she brought home outcast, semi-divine beings every day.

"I think I'll call it a night myself," Eris said a little sleepily.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had just eaten his first decent meal in recent memory, but Loki felt a shadow of his old malevolence resurface. "A broken down piece of sitting furniture. How highly you honor your guests."

"Only the best for you," the girl replied cheerfully as she opened the door into an adjoining room. "Sleep tight!" was the last thing he heard before she decisively shut the door again.

He was insulted, but his irritation cooled fairly quickly. This entire situation was simply too strange and he was too tired to care about his mercurial sidekick. In spite of what he'd told Eris, the couch looked to be the most inviting resting place he'd had in a long while. Loki turned off the overhead light and unlaced his boots. He sat for a moment in the darkness and then curled up under the blanket. Before long, he slept.

…..….

He dreamed of Asgard and that horrible moment where he hung off the edge of the rainbow bridge above the abyss. He relived that horrible moment when the man he had thought was his father told him that his efforts weren't good enough. He felt again his hand slip off the cool metal of the staff as he plunged into the unknown.

…

He woke from his respite to the afternoon sun in his eyes and the smell of food in the air. It took Loki a moment to remember where he was. The previous night's events flashed in his memory. The girl in the alley. The proposal. The alliance.

Loki heard a noise from behind the couch and sat up groggily. He could see into a dim little kitchen. The girl Eris, dressed similarly to how she had been when he last saw her, was working industriously at the small stove. She must have heard him stirring, because she moved slightly to face him as she turned an egg over in the pan she was holding.

"I thought you'd sleep the entire day away!" Eris chirped happily at him.

Loki raised a single questioning eyebrow. The wench's mocking mood from the night before seemed to have been replaced by a rosy effervescence. The perkiness was a little annoying, but the promise of food was enough to still his tongue for the moment.

Eris beckoned invitingly, and Loki entered the kitchen and sat at a battered plastic table. Eris set a plate and cutlery in front of him, and heaped eggs and sausage onto his plate. Loki needed no one to tell him to tuck into his meal. Although not nearly as famished as he was the previous evening, he nevertheless inhaled the food with a speed he would have found startling in other circumstances. Eris appeared to be unfazed at the uncontained manner in which he consumed his breakfast. She ladled her on portion onto her plate, watching him thoughtfully.

"We'll need to cut your hair, I think. Bits of it are uneven."

Loki nodded absently, too busy concentrating on sustenance to be concerned with trifles like his physical appearance. Eris sat down to her meal and worked her way through it in a more mannerly fashion. He was done long before she was.

She seemed content to conduct the meal in silence, but Loki had been forced into dumbness for so long that he hungered to use his voice almost as much as he had hungered for the meal he had just consumed.

"You've told me why you enlisted my aid. What made you decide to trust me as an accomplice to your grand scheme?"

"I don't trust you in the least. I only trust that your intentions are every bit as bad as mine." Eris said around a final bite of toast.

She looked at him then, and the malice in her eyes was clear. "My offer not to toy with your emotions ends the moment I sense any outright hostility from you. Try to stab me in the back, and I'll spend the rest of my life making sure that you know not a moment of peace or respite."

She must have sensed his shock, and she smiled sardonically. "I didn't come to your aid out of any sense of charity, Loki of Asgard. If I had no use for you, I'd have left you rotting on the streets. You represent a means to an end, nothing more. I'd be a fool to believe I represent anything else to you."

She got up from her seat and cleared the empty plates from the table. "The simple solution is this," Eris said as she placed the dishes in the nearby sink, "Don't fuck with me. Ever. I'll do what I'm supposed to do, and you do what you're supposed to do, and we both walk away from this happy."

Loki was an experienced liar and manipulator. He knew the difference between truth and falsehood. The girl was not lying. She was deathly serious.

Eris walked into the room she had sequestered herself in the night before. Peering through the door, Loki was able to see it was almost as bare as the rest of the apartment, containing only a lamp and a mattress on the floor. She came out a moment later with a plastic shopping bag. "I got these this morning while you were still passed out. I had to guess at your sizes. You can keep your shoes, but I'm planning on tossing everything else you are wearing." She set the bag in front of him and stepped to the side. Loki opened it, and found a pair of grey trousers, a long sleeved black shirt, and a forest green sweater.

Eris pointed at a door near the kitchen. "Bathroom is over there. Toiletries already provided. It's about time you got cleaned up. Like I said last night, you smell like shit."

Guessing that this was not the time to push his luck further, Loki took his new gear into the bathroom without a word of protest.

….

He emerged half an hour later feeling more like his old self than he had any right to, under the circumstances. The shower had been old and dingy but the stream of hot water it had produced was more precious to Loki than all the jewels in the world. The clothing Eris had provided fit reasonably well, and was blissfully clean.

He found his co-conspirator sprawled comfortably on the couch, reading a battered old leather-bound book. It was so worn that he couldn't even read the cover. The girl seemed to have an affection for shaggy old things – save the clothes on her own back and his, there seemed not to be a single item in the lodgings that had not seen better days. Loki smiled sourly to himself. He wondered what the proclivity said about his own presence in the rooms.

Eris looked up from her book at his entrance. "Ah, good. It'll be night soon," she stated, placing a scrap of paper in the book to mark her place. The light streaming in from the window behind her glowed red with the setting sun. Loki must have slept far longer than he thought.

"What does it being night have to do with anything?" he asked the girl.

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Eris's mouth before she replied. "We have an errand to run."


	3. A Trip to the Park

_I apologize again for the delay. So much time and so little to do… Strike that, reverse it. The good news is that the next chapter is almost finished, and should be up in a day or two._

_How am I doing? Do you love it? Hate it? Please R&R!_

…..

"Where exactly are we going?" asked Loki, as he and Eris exited the dilapidated brownstone which housed their apartment, and began to trudge along the darkened streets of the City That Never Sleeps.

"I need information from an associate of mine, and the best time to speak with him is at night. As the information may concern you, I thought you might like to tag along."

Not exactly the most enthralling of tasks, but infinitely more interesting than sitting alone in a bare and rundown apartment. Loki's fertile mind had regained its capacity for boredom far more quickly than he would have expected.

"There is one aspect to this I don't think you have considered," Loki said as they walked. "My father's servant Heimdall has likely been keeping an eye on me the entire time I have been on this thrice-forsaken realm. If he doesn't already know of this plan, he will soon."

"Oh, I considered it. It just won't be an issue," Eris said airily.

Perhaps the madness inside Eris had not sufficiently abated yet. "How does the attention of one of the most observant being in the Nine Realms not concern you?" he questioned hotly.

"Because he can't see us," Eris replied with conviction.

Loki was stupefied at the girl's ignorance. "There is a saying on Asgard that Heimdall can see a single drop of dew falling from a blade of grass a hundred worlds away. Tell me, how is it that you, of all the entities in the universe, are able to avoid his gaze?"

Eris's face took on an expression akin to a patient instructor explaining something to a very dull pupil.

"After the Chitauri invasion failed, Thor Odinson escorted you back to Asgard _with the help of the Tesseract_. The Tesseract is back in Asgard now, which means that Odin has all the power he needs to repair the Bifrost. However, the intelligence I was able to get my hands on indicated that the process was time-intensive, even with adequate energy available. A message from Asgard to S.H.I.E.L.D. cautioned that communication would be spotty for a time because the Tesseract energy causes some sort of interference when it's being used at high levels."

Loki scowled. "And what exactly does that have to do with Heimdall?"

"Coded within these communications was a warning that the Tesseract energy greatly hindered Heimdall's abilities to see past the borders of Asgard. As long as the Bifrost is undergoing repairs, we have a clear window of time in which to act."

Loki pondered that for a moment. "Doesn't it seem a bit too convenient that this interference just happens to be occurring at the same time you are putting your plan into motion?"

Eris smiled coldly. "I'd be a lot more suspicious if I hadn't felt the anxiety of most of the higher echelons of S.H.I.E.L.D. during my reconnaissance missions. For a well-funded agency dedicated to covert operations and intelligence, you'd think they'd make more effort to stop infiltration by people like me. No, it's no trap to lure you out – those people are genuinely worried about what might happen while the Guardian of the Bridge isn't watching."

"What would you have done if you hadn't found me before the Bifrost had been repaired?" Loki inquired.

"I probably wouldn't have bothered with you in the first place. I don't know the full extent of the being Heimdall's powers, but even if he is incapable of observing multiple events at once, I have a hunch that he'd spend a good bit of time watching you, either of his own volition or at the request of Odin All-Father. Even powerless as you are, you are someone of great interest to the ruling family of Asgard. I, on the other hand, am a non-entity. The only reason Heimdall would ever to pay attention to me is if I became involved with you. And only an idiot would get themselves tied up with you if there was a good chance that a being like Heimdall could see them."

An answer as honest as the one she had given him the night previous. In spite of himself, Loki found that the girl had impressed him. Mortals seemed constantly to trounce around and about their business without any method to their madness, motivated by their emotions beyond what was rational. Eris might be somewhat mad, but her mental instability had at least manifested itself in a helpfully strategic fashion, backed up by a pragmatism that was not clouded by her thirst for vengeance.

"This still doesn't explain why you chose to align yourself with me, as opposed to one of your own kind. Surely this plan of yours is more complex than absolutely necessary. The simplest plan is often the best, or so the saying goes."

Eris smiled in amusement at him. "I thought you of all people would appreciate the process by which I mean to achieve my goals, if not the goals themselves."

"I don't understand what you mean," Loki said, frowning.

If anything, this seemed to amuse Eris more. "You are aware that you, your foster family, and members of Odin's court appear as mythical figures in the lore of certain ancient cultures?"

"Of course I know that," replied Loki impatiently, "but what does that have to do with anything?"

"In Norse mythology, Loki is often said to be the God of Mischief, or sometimes the God of Lies. But many scholars also refer to you as the God of Chaos, a bringer of disorder and pandemonium in an otherwise orderly world."

Eris's grin faltered and her eyes darkened for a moment, and Loki could once again see the shadows of sorrow and heartbreak in her gaze.

"There are easier ways to get what I want, it's true. But this way is better for two reasons. First, it may be convoluted, but the chances of any of the mutant factions or organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. ever guessing that you and I are working in conjunction are slim. People can only plan for what they can imagine, and our partnership is not something they are likely to conceive of. Whatever risks are caused by complexities are more than made up for by the good chance we can catch our opponents unawares. And second…"

Eris's voice trailed off as her upper lip curled in disdain. "Second, this scheme best utilizes our joint capabilities to cause as much turmoil and disarray as possible. Not only can we bring our goals into fruition – we can do so in a way that demoralizes and torments our foes in the most exquisite possible fashion."

Now that was a plan that Loki could get behind.

They walked in silence for a time, stopping to eat at restaurant with dirty walls but surpassingly tasty sandwiches. They proceeded with purpose, but Loki still had no idea where they were going. His familiarity with the labyrinth of New York City left something to be desired.

"You know, I believe that you've been using your detective abilities all this time. That power I can easily accept. I am having a bit more difficult time picturing what your projective abilities are like in action," Loki said to Eris.

Eris cocked an inquiring eyebrow. "What precisely are you asking?"

"I want you to show me what you can do," answered Loki.

"You want a demonstration? Only fair, I suppose."

Eris pulled back the sleeve of her jacket to check her watch. "We have a little time. We just need to make a detour. Unless, of course, you want to volunteer to be the guinea pig?"

Loki glared at Eris and she smirked back at him.

"Didn't think so. This way then."

Eris took a left at the next intersection, and then began to lead them on a series of twists and turns until Loki could see a clump of trees in the distance.

"Welcome to Prospect Park," Eris said.

The trees thinned out almost immediately to be replaced by a large field. This was no rival to the massive Central Park of Manhattan, but Loki felt obscurely comforted by being surrounded by greenery instead of buildings.

They walked deeper into the park. The sun had set hours before and the normally busy paths were empty. Eris moved her head slightly from side to side, reminding Loki of nothing so much as a bloodhound searching for a scent. This impression was reinforced when she stopped suddenly, and then began rapidly moving in the direction of a secluded trail leading into a copse of trees. Loki wondered what exactly she was getting at when from behind one of the bushes, three youths emerged.

"I'd step back, if I were you," Eris whispered to Loki.

Loki had seen their type during his stint on the streets, and he had generally avoided them. He was happy to accede to her suggestion. Eris, however, seemed hell-bent on confronting them head on.

"Hey sweetheart," said the biggest of the three, "You and your boyfriend picked a bad place for a date." His friends laughed and jeered. Eris merely looked at him serenely. The tough smiled nastily at Eris, and began to move towards her in a threatening fashion.

"If you go away now, I'll let you leave without getting hurt," Eris told the punk calmly.

Her would-be assailant cracked his knuckles menacingly as Eris looked on impassively. "You hear that? She promises not to hurt us!" The laughter from the two others increased in volume.

"Last chaaaance," Eris said to the three in a sing-song voice. "It would be so sad if we had to get into a disagreement."

"Bitch, you are stupid as hell," said the big brute.

The tough approached Eris and swung his arm as if to punch her in the gut. But Eris was ready for him. She smoothly dodged out of the way of the blow and, quick as a snake, wrapped her left hand around the buffoon's wrist.

The reaction was instantaneous. The snarl on the punk's face collapsed in on itself to be replaced by a look of utter despair. If Loki had been asked to guess, he would have said that the boy had just heard the worst news he ever expected to hear in his entire life.

"I told you it would be sad," said Eris harshly as the teen began to wail in sorrow.

Eris grinned ferally as she continued to clasp the ringleader's arm, watching as he writhed in despondency. His sobs echoed around the park as the other toughs looked on in disbelief. In the next moment, Eris released her attacker's wrist and delivered a furious and well-placed kick to his ribs. Loki imagined that he heard bone crack under the blow. Their assailant began to crawl towards his companions, who were backing away.

"Oh my dears," Eris chuckled savagely, "You are not nearly as afraid as you should be."

The muggers simultaneously dropped into prone positions. One huddled into himself and rocked back and forth. Another fell to his knees and began to look wildly about. The ringleader curled into the fetal position and whimpered wordlessly.

Eris laughed harshly once more before turning to the teens. She sneered and the three youths began to scream before running back the way they had come. She bared her teeth at their retreating forms as if she longed to pursue them, but only barely managed to restrain herself. Eris turned to Loki, her eyes alight with the same flames of insanity that he had seen before.

"I hope that this is satisfies your curiosity." She spun around once in place, laughing wildly.

Not for the first time, Loki questioned the wisdom of this course of action. This spectacle was proof enough of Eris's abilities, but the girl was clearly more than a little unstable. Then again, Loki himself was more than a little unstable, so he supposed he was in good company. Still, as he uneasily watched Eris cackling like a bat out of bedlam, Loki wondered if a bit more stability in his life might be a good thing.


	4. Monster

_Heaps and heaps of apologies for the extreme delay between the last update and this one – work and summer session are killing me! To make up for it, this chapter is about 50% longer than previous chapters have been. I hope this induces your forgiveness._

_As always, if you have any constructive criticism, plot suggestions, questions you'd like to see answered over the course of the story, etc., please read and review._

_Chapter 4 is written from Eris's point of view. _

Eris quickly got herself under control, although she still felt exultant on the inside. She routinely used her projective powers in small ways, and her detective abilities were as much a part of her now as her sense of smell or sight. But she so rarely got to project in so dramatic a fashion and against such worthy targets.

Loki was displeased. Not perhaps at her display, but how she'd reacted to it. Her elation seemed to disconcert him, although why that should be the case, Eris couldn't say. From the footage she had seen of the Battle of Manhattan, he had certainly seemed to relish the bloodshed happening all around him.

Eris took a few deep, calming breaths and used the pause to regain some of her usual self-possession. Within a relatively short span of time, she was able to reign herself in sufficiently that her companion's unhappiness subsided.

"Well, that's that. Perhaps we should get back to our task," she said simply.

Loki didn't reply, merely nodding warily at her. Eris smiled coaxingly at him, and began to retrace her steps out of the park and back onto the streets of Brooklyn. She and Loki still had blocks to go before they could reach their final destination.

Eris led the way down a side street and into a secluded alleyway. The first thing she saw was the rat. It was floating a few inches above the pavement, squealing as its skin slowly peeled off of its struggling body. Eris sensed a pulse of agony throbbing from its small frame, honed to unnatural strength by pain and impending death. The form of a man crouched nearby, watching the animal intently. Eris stopped a respectful distance from the squatting figure, and turned towards Loki."

"This is Scratch," she said.

Loki wasn't looking at her – his attention was entirely focused on the floating rat. Eris could feel the waves of disgust radiating from her companion as he watched the scene. She was not fond of Scratch's little hobby, but Loki's reaction nevertheless amused her. This was someone who had thought nothing of bringing an extraterrestrial army to Earth to decimate the populace (and had succeeded in killing thousands in the process), but here he was, repulsed by the flaying of a still-living rodent.

"Scratch, we have a guest. It isn't polite to play games when there are guests."

Scratch looked up from his diversion. Eris risked sending out a tiny thread of _calm_ towards Scratch. Although she was more than capable of using her powers in a more dramatic fashion, this was a scale Eris was used to working on. Eris's best and most effective projections were often the most subtle. If Scratch was aware of her efforts to influence him with her powers, he made no mention of it. He simply sighed gustily, as a schoolchild does when they're told that recess is over. The sounds of the tormented rat cut off abruptly as an invisible hand seemed to snap its neck. The rodent's corpse was then flung into the distance and out of immediate sight.

The man then turned his watery hazel eyes to Loki and Eris. Maggot-pale, with a crooked nose and scabbed purplish lips, Scratch was not about to win any beauty contests. He'd gotten his nickname due to the series of deeply furrowed scars which criss-crossed his entire face. Most of the street people and the mutants who lived on the fringes thought that the lines were the result of a fight or an animal attack, but Eris knew that the wounds were self-inflicted. Scratch had revealed once, some months after they had met, that his ability to sense thoughts had manifested unexpectedly during his mid-teens; he'd tried to claw his own skull open to set the voices free. Although Scratch was able to exercise some control over his abilities, he was still plagued by voices on a regular basis.

For all Eris knew, some of the "voices" Scratch heard could be the product of his own mind. Being a mutant didn't exactly preclude a person from being a schizophrenic. Eris suspected that the only reason he hadn't been hauled off for "training" by one faction of mutants or another was the fact that his powers were rather weak in comparison to most other mentalists. As it stood, Scratch was largely ignored, which suited Eris's purposes just fine. After all, it was better to have a weak ally well placed, than a thousand powerful allies in no position to do you any good.

"Scratch, this is my friend Lee. Lee, this is Scratch. Scratch is a telepath who, as you could see, also has some limited telekinesis."

Loki nodded coldly at Scratch as Scratch peered back suspiciously.

"You didn't tell me that you were fetching the trickster so soon. Ahead of schedule," Scratch rasped.

Scratch's use of the "trickster" appellation clearly agitated Loki. Since Eris had made no mention of her early discovery of Loki Laufeyson to Scratch, or introduced Loki to Scratch by name, Scratch had obviously gotten his information in his usual way.

"It isn't nice to read other people's thoughts without permission, Scratch," Eris admonished.

"I could say the same thing about people who muck around with other people's emotions without asking," Scratch returned gruffly.

Eris's face twisted wryly. So he had noticed the thread she sent out earlier. Oh well. He couldn't blame a girl for trying.

"I fetched him because I found him. There wasn't a need to wait any longer, and every reason to bring him in now," Eris told Scratch. Scratch merely grunted noncommittally in reply.

"Scratch, we needed to know if there has been any indication from S.H.I.E.L.D. or any other source that the reconstruction of the Bifrost is proceeding more quickly than expected. Has there been any word?" Eris asked the man.

Scratch picked at a scab on his knuckle and chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "The voices are still worried. One-eye and his shadow still haven't heard from Asgard. They don't expect to hear anything for weeks yet."

Eris nodded. Scratch's powers may be weak, especially when compared to mentalists Eris had known like Jean Gray and Charles Xavier, but he was exceptionally good at maintaining contact with "voices" that he had encountered before, even through longer distances. This meant that Fury and Agent Hill were antsy about not being able to communicate off-planet, and if no communications could get through the Tesseract cloud, then Heimdall's eyes couldn't either.

Eris reached into the pocket of her overcoat and pulled out a generous wad of rolled bills. She tossed them in Scratch's direction, and he deftly caught them.

"Good work, as usual," Eris told Scratch.

Scratch waved at her dismissively, his attention already focused with predatory intent on a large rat picking its way through a nearby dumpster. Eris judged that now was the best time for her and Loki to take their leave. As amusing as it would be to sense Loki discomfited again, Eris wasn't personally interested in seeing any further display of Scratch's pastime. When they turned to leave, Scratch didn't even give them a second glance.

"You have the most charming acquaintances," Loki remarked when they were out of earshot, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, and I'm sure that the Chitauri enlivened all your dinner parties with their winning manners and sparkling wit," Eris returned without missing a beat.

Loki gave off another wave of annoyance, but did not reply. Eris mentally tallied another point on her side of the score sheet.

"We won't need to visit Scratch again, or at least, not together. He's only a passive observer in our venture, but I try to keep him in the loop so he can do his job better."

"Are you sure that you can trust that detestable creature?" inquired Loki.

"I trust him as much as I trust you, which is to say not at all. However, I do trust that he will continue to give me accurate information as long as I pay him, and if he ever makes the mistake of trying to double cross me, he knows that I will see to it that he dies a slow, painful death," answered Eris.

Just as Eris knew that if she were to turn on Scratch, he would happily exercise his talents on her. Most especially the ones he usually confined to rats.

"For now, we have the information we need and a window in which we can do our good work." Eris told Loki. "For now, you'll have to stay indoors during the day. You're still America's most wanted criminal, since your little escapade."

Loki sneered at her. "So you mean to keep me prisoner?"

Eris looked at him mildly. "If you're spotted and recognized on the street, there is no guarantee that I could stop the information from getting back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Your father may have felt that rendering you powerless and exiling you was an appropriate punishment for your crimes, but something tells me that the United States government would disagree with him on the matter."

Even if Eris hadn't been able to detect the irritation pulsing off of Loki, she would have clearly been able to see it in his face. Her new best friend had reached his breaking point as far as his willingness to accept her authority. Now it was time for the inevitable power struggle.

So be it.

Loki moved to shove past her, and Eris held up a placating hand.

"If you think you can get past me, you are more than welcome to try. In fact, I'll even make a wager." She grinned mischievously at Loki as he scowled in return. "I'll stand at the entrance to the alley. You have 5 minutes to get around me and on to the street. If you manage it, you can go where you will with no protest from me. If you fail, you'll stay in the apartment when the sun is out and only leave when accompanied by me."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "How do I know that you won't just send me into a panic like you did with those three blithering idiots back in the wood?"

"Because I promised you that, saving as required by our arrangement, I won't exercise my projective abilities on you. Besides, what happened in the park was just for show." Eris showed her teeth in a ferocious smile. "This? This is for sport."

Eris looked at Loki, who regarded her distrustfully. "So," she asked, "do we have a deal?"

Of course they did. Eris sensed his confidence before he even opened his mouth to answer. "I accept," he said with a smirk.

Eris moved to the mouth of the alley. She spread her feet to shoulder width and stood with arms akimbo. "Your five minutes begin now."

Loki had given the impression of being calculating – she would have expected him to try to feel out her weaknesses first – but he surprised Eris by launching himself at her almost immediately. It would have been even more surprising if she hadn't been able to detect his fury and exultation before he made his attack. She kicked out with her left leg and connected it with Loki's knees, and was rewarded with a flicker of shock from her opponent as he tumbled face-first into the concrete.

Loki scrambled to his feet and moved as if to make a break for the street ahead, but once again, his intentions were as clear as day to Eris, and she responded to his effort by slamming her elbow into his spine. He fell back to the ground with a choking sound.

She finally managed to pin him to the ground with his right arm twisted behind his back. He continued to flail his left arm ineffectively, cursing at her most creatively. Eris simply waited with quiet mirth. He may have been battle trained and battle tested, but he wasn't accustomed to fighting without the aid of magic. It also helped that his recent deprivations had taken a toll on his physique.

"Time's up!" she said cheerfully as Loki sputtered furiously in the dirt of pavement. Eris quite graciously ignored the further insults to her parentage, abilities, and future prospects of living as she jumped from Loki's back and brushed herself off.

"You got all caught up in the active use of my abilities and forgot all about their passive application, hmmm?" The frustration and anger vibrating off of her companion was answer enough. "I can't read minds, but certain emotions are often tied to particular trains of thought. And I've been doing this long enough that I can often make some rather shrewd guesses about what my opponents intend to do."

Loki looked as if he wanted to attack her again, but Eris sensed no real intention to make a move and diplomatically chose not to point out how useless a second attempt would be.

"Just remember, when dealing with mutants, the only thing worse than picking a fight with someone who can sense your emotions is picking a fight with someone who can sense your thoughts. Scratch can't fight worth a damn, but if you approach him with violence in your heart, he'll liquefy your brain in your skull."

There was absolutely no need to mention that Eris had actually seen Scratch do exactly that to a tweaker who had attempted to rob him. Scratch had watched fascinated as the man's brains had trickled out of his nose like grayish oatmeal. Eris's own stomach had hardened after years of exposure to less-than-pleasant sights, but that had been almost enough to make her lose her last meal. And it made the body disposal an even less enjoyable task than it already was.

Loki shot her a withering glance as he got himself to his feet. Eris made no move to help him up, opting instead to watch him impassively.

"Well, as exciting as that all was, what do you say we head back to the homestead?"

Loki grumbled under his breath but made no further protests as they began to walk back in the direction of the brownstone apartment. Eris kept her face composed while inside she chortled. It never failed to amuse her how often she was underestimated. People looked at her and assumed that because she wasn't a thick-necked body builder or lithe femme fatale, she could be easily overpowered. Not every student who attended Xavier's School for Gifted Children went on to join the X-Men, but every single one received at least basic self-defense training. Eris had completed the entire available combat curriculum. She wasn't particularly adept at anything but the use of a bo staff, but she was proficient enough at hand-to-hand to catch most attackers off-guard, as she had with Loki.

As they walked, Eris calmly ignored the arrows of hatred being pointed in her direction by her companion until they suddenly seemed to halt. The change was so abrupt that only long practice kept Eris from stopping in her tracks. Loki had ceased directing his negativity towards her and began instead to turn it towards himself. Self-loathing surrounded Loki like his own personal fog, thick enough to cut with a knife, and so powerful that she was shocked that she couldn't visibly discern it. Eris felt a stab of guilt. She had no objection to Loki despising her, so long as he kept up his end of the bargain, but Eris felt surprisingly contrite that she had inadvertently attacked his own self-esteem.

She remembered then the words she had heard Loki speak to himself as he slept in the pre-dawn hours. Exhausted and lost in the world of dreams, Loki hadn't even stirred when Eris had padded quietly into the living room to begin her tasks for the day.

"I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night…" he had whispered, his tone heartbroken.

Monster.

The word reverberated painfully through Eris as it surfaced in her memory. It was a title that she had been forced to bear against her will for years. She had tried everything she could think of to show that she belonged, only to be rejected by normal humans and distrusted by other mutants. When the pain had become too much to bear, she shaped herself into the very thing she had been feared as.

Monster.

The toughs in the park had intended her harm, but Eris had gone out of her way to torment them. Her demonstration hadn't needed to take the dark turn that it had. She could just as easily have made them more inclined to trust her, or made them feel joyful, or awestruck. Eris had done none of those things. She had wounded the teens on psychic level and reveled in her dominion over them, just as Scratch reveled in snuffing the lives out of small animals. She drank in their dismay and horror, and drew strength from it, gleeful in the suffering of her victims.

Monster.

Eris contemplated, as she often did when she felt her sense of purpose falter, the person she had been and the person she had become. In a way, she had been at her happiest just before the blow had been struck, naively believing that life had already given her the worst that it could by cursing her with a dominant X-gene. She had learned the harsh truth. For the oppressed (and no matter how powerful they happened to be, _every_ mutant was one of the oppressed), life can get worse. It can always get worse.

Monster.

Then, as it always did, Eris's heart hardened. She could have been so much more than she was now, but that opportunity had been taken from her when one of her own kind had outted her nearly a decade ago. All of Eris's hopes and dreams, crushed by a single act of betrayal, aided and abetted by those that she once trusted. Her enemies deserved what was coming to them; they were the ones who forced Eris down the path to what she was today.

Monster.

Loki may be a megalomaniacal twat who would cut her down given half a chance, but Eris had thrown her lot in with him. By her personal code of honor, she owed it to him to do right by him, right up until the moment he attempted a betrayal. The two of them, at least, understood one another. Eris couldn't say that about anyone from her past.

Yes, she and Loki were monsters, but if life had taught Eris anything, it was that monsters were better off when they stuck together.


	5. Pawn Takes King

_I have NO idea why this chapter took so long. The first 2000 words flowed out of me like water, while the last 1700 were a struggle. I apologize again for the delay in publishing and I want to thank my loyal readers and reviewers for putting up with my nonsense – it is appreciated. _

_We're back to Loki's point of view again. _

…..

Loki groaned when he finally awoke. His spine felt like his foster-brother Thor has used it for target practice and his face stung with cuts and scrapes. Damn the girl. He may have been imprisoned in this human form, but Loki should have been able to defeat Eris without difficulty. He had been taking part in battles centuries before her ancestors had set foot on the soil of this wretched country. Yet she had handled him as easily as he had anticipated handling her. He had been sore after last night's affray, but an evening spent on the broken-down sofa had left Loki positively aching.

Damn the girl thrice over.

Loki painfully moved himself into an upright position, wincing as he turned to search for any sign of the accursed female. Eris was sitting at the battered kitchen table, sipping a mug of steaming liquid and reading the same scuffed up old book Loki had seen previously.

"Morning Rocky. Hope you slept well," Eris told him without looking up from her reading.

Loki didn't understand the reference, but he suspected she was having fun at his expense. He glared at her, but she appeared to be absorbed in her book and took no notice of it. Even in spite of his aching body, Loki's stomach growled in an embarrassingly apparent fashion. That did cause Eris to look up, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Glad to see that your appetite wasn't affected by yesterday's recreation." Eris nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen's elderly fridge. "I ate while I was out this morning, but there are sandwich fixings. Help yourself."

Eris returned her attention to the tome, while Loki shifted uncomfortably on the couch…

Eris lifted her eyes and cocked an eyebrow at Loki. "I thought you were hungry."

"I am."

"Then why don't you make yourself some food?" she asked.

"I have never made a sandwich before," Loki said simply.

Eris studied him. Although she was given to periodic madcap displays, the girl's face was usually inscrutable. Unlike most people, she was very difficult for Loki to read most of the time. But for a brief moment, Loki saw a change in Eris's demeanor before she schooled her features to impassivity once again.

Pity. She felt pity towards him.

Of all the indignities Loki had suffered in his time on Earth, this was the most insulting. How dare that impudent slattern look down on him, he who had once been king.

"I am a Prince of Asgard," he spat out angrily. "I am accustomed to having my needs being taken care of by well-trained attendants. The preparation of food is servant's work."

Eris remained seemingly unperturbed by this outburst. "Well, if a simple sandwich is beyond your capabilities, you are free to try to find your own chow. I hear that the burger joint down the street throws out its leftovers every couple of hours – you might have some luck digging through the dumpster there. You do, after all, have experience, even if you aren't very good at it."

The words stung, as they were no doubt meant to, and Loki resisted the urge to grind his teeth in frustration. Eris looked at Loki searchingly for a moment before sighing. She pushed her chair back from the table noisily and stood.

"Sandwiches are the perfect food for people who can't cook," Eris instructed, taking a loaf of bread from the top of the fridge. "Watch and learn, so you can do it for yourself when I am not around."

A chipped plate came out of the cabinet. Two slices from the loaf were placed on it. Eris turned a knob on the stove and moved a kettle from the counter to the coiled eye before reaching into the fridge and pulling out some items. In a few well-practiced motions, Eris spread some condiments on the bread and piled it high with slices of cheese and meat. By the time the dish was assembled, the kettle was whistling and she was pouring the water over a teabag in a clean mug. A simple meal, but the memories of recent hunger were still too near for Loki to turn his nose up at a wholesome meal. He was ready to inhale his food when Eris placed the plate and mug in front of him.

Loki bit down into his sandwich and winced as he began to chew. He had somehow managed to knock himself in the jaw as he had flailed about in the ultimately vain attempt to dislodge the loathsome harridan from his back. Eris left the table and went to the bathroom. When she returned and sat back down, she slid two small pills across the table towards Loki.

"Aspirin. It'll help with the pain," Eris said in response to his querying look.

Loki was unfamiliar with the substance, but anything that could help with his present physical discomfort was welcome. He swallowed the pills and chased them with a swig of his tea.

Eris resumed her place across from him at the table as he began to eat the food in front of him. She took a sip from her mug, peering at him over the rim.

"We don't particularly like each other, and that is fine by me. Personally, I don't think we should like each other very much – attachment of that sort could interfere with our judgment in a way that could be detrimental. But we are going to have to cooperate if we are going to have a more than a snowball's chance in Hell of pulling this off."

Eris paused to take another sip from her mug.

"With that in mind, I think we should begin working on your 'redemption' today."

"When?" Loki asked.

"We can begin any time that you would like," came the reply.

"Why not now? We might as well get on with it so we can get through this tedious business," Loki suggested acidly.

Loki had the satisfaction of seeing Eris's jaw clench almost imperceptibly at the jab. "As you like it," she responded neutrally.

Eris closed her eyes and went very still. Her breathing became shallow, as if she were sleeping.

Five seconds. Thirty seconds. A minute. Time passed and Eris seemed to be lost in a trance. Just as Loki began to grow restless, she stirred. Her eyes shot open. Her pupils were dilated to the point that her irises were thin blue rings. The sight was vaguely unsettling. Thankfully, it lasted only a moment before her face took on its normal indifferent resting expression.

"There," she breathed, "that should do it."

Loki honestly didn't feel much of a difference. His sense of annoyance was rapidly diminishing, but that could easily be the product of a full stomach and the aspirin taking effect to relieve the ache in his abused joints.

"I sense no change," he said testily.

Eris smirked at that. "I wouldn't be very good at what I do if you could. I assure you, the groundwork is being laid as we speak."

Eris stretched, the vertebrae in her back cracking as she did so. She then checked her watch and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You didn't sleep as long as you did yesterday. We have some time to kill before nightfall," she said.

"I have often found your human expressions quite perplexing. You often speak of killing time. It seems to be a curious turn of phrase, when you have so very little time, compared to other species in the universe," Loki commented caustically.

Instead of annoying Eris as he had intended, the statement caused her to ruminate for a moment before responding.

"Certain butterflies live only for 3 days before dying. And yet, in those 3 days, they live a lifetime which must seem every bit as long to them as mine does to me. And who is to say that a creature's worth is encompassed solely by the span of its life? If anything, the butterflies have it better – they spend their entire existence in a perpetual summer."

Loki cocked an eyebrow at her. "That was unexpectedly poetic."

"There's no need to be sound so astonished. I may be deranged, but I'm not stupid," Eris said, sounding slightly peeved.

No, she wasn't stupid. Loki was so accustomed to underestimating mortals that his default attitude towards Eris was to treat her as he treated all other humans: like an idiot. … though she had already demonstrated a talent for planning that far exceeded what even many Asgardians were capable of. She may be given to periodic bouts of psychosis, but she was nobody's fool. He'd do well to remember that in the future.

Eris looked lost in thought before turning a speculative eye on Loki.

"Have you ever played chess?" she asked him suddenly.

"I have heard of the game, but I never learned to play," Loki replied forthrightly. "It didn't precisely sound like a form of recreation which would be favored where I'm from. More abstract and intellectual, and less hitting things with heavy objects until they fall over. Not very entertaining by Asgardian standards, in other words."

The corner of Eris's mouth twitched as if she had just managed to stop herself from smiling. "Would you like to learn?"

Loki shrugged. "It can't be any worse than staring at the wall until sundown."

Eris pushed her chair back from the table and strode into her sleeping chamber. She returned with a square board and a cloth bag that rattled as she walked. She placed the board onto the table and carefully emptied the contents of the bag.

As was typical of most of her possessions, the gameboard and pieces were not new. Unlike most of Eris's belongings, the chess set did not look like a discarded hand-me-down. The board itself was a solid piece of strong wood, meticulously stained and lacquered. The pieces appeared to have been hand-carved from bits of stone – the white from milky quartz and the black from polished basalt. The set was not gaudy or ostentatious in the least, and showed an exquisite simplicity that looked entirely out of place in the shabby apartment. Clearly, this was an item of great value and personal significance to the girl.

Eris set the game pieces on the board in what appeared to be their predetermined starting locations. She then positioned the board so that the white pieces were in front of Loki and the black pieces were in front of her.

"The pawn," said Eris, as she held up a small black piece, a column topped by a sphere. "The weakest piece in the game. It moves only forward, never back. It can only move forward one space at a time, except on its initial move, when the player has the option of moving the pawn forward two spaces. Any piece, friend or foe, which stands in its path may prevent it from moving forward. It captures opponents diagonally. However, if you manage to move one of your pawns all the way to the opposite side of the board, your pawn may be promoted to any piece in the game, save the king."

Eris set the pawn down and picked up a black piece which resembled the crenellated tower of an ancient Earth castle. "The rook. It can move as many spaces as it likes, but only in one direction at a time. Rooks move forwards, backwards, and side to side, never diagonally. They capture pieces by moving into a square occupied by that piece. A rook's movement can be blocked by friendly pieces."

Next came a black piece in the shape of a horse's head. "The knight. The only piece in the game which is able to jump over other pieces. However, its movement is confined to an L-shape. No matter which direction it moves, it must always do so in the shape of an L."

After the knight was returned to the table, Eris picked up a piece which curved sinuously and reminded Loki of nothing so much as a lit candle. "The bishop. Like the rook, the bishop can move as many spaces in one direction as it likes, so long as it isn't blocked by a friendly piece. Bishops move and capture only diagonally."

A column topped by a frilled crown and a sphere replaced the bishop in Eris's hand. "The queen. The most powerful piece in the game. The queen can move in any direction whatsoever, so long as it is the same direction in a single move. She can capture sideways, diagonally, backwards, and forwards. Her movement is only limited by the position of friendly pieces on the board, which can block her."

The final piece Eris presented was the largest, a column topped by a crown and topped with a cross. "The king. Like, the queen, the king can move and capture in any direction, but he can only move one space at a time. Capturing the opponent's king is the goal of every chess game. When you manage to move one of your pieces into a position where you can capture your opponent's king, you indicate this by saying 'check.' And if you can position your pieces where there is no move the king can possibly make that will take him out of danger, you indicate this by saying 'checkmate.' The first person to checkmate wins."

Eris placed the king back in the proper square. "The rules are simple. Capture your opponent's king before your own is captured, while only moving your pieces in a permissible fashion. Since the white player always goes first in chess, the first move is yours."

Eris clearly knew what she was about when it came to chess. Loki estimated that their first three games lasted less than 20 minutes total, as Eris deftly and speedily managed to capture Loki's king. This did not frustrate him as much as it might have. For one thing, the girl wasn't inclined to gloat over her victories, as Thor and his companions were wont to do in competitive circumstances. She gave him no quarter while the game was in progress, speaking only to correct Loki when he attempted a prohibited maneuver. After each checkmate, however, Eris explained to him the mistakes he had made during the round, pointing out alternate strategies he could have employed to avoid her attacks. Her instruction was not condescending, merely informative.

By the fourth game, Loki began to become more comfortable with the fundamentals of the game and managed to play for half an hour before being defeated. By the fifth, he managed to capture half of Eris's pieces. In the sixth, he checked her king for the first time. When the seventh game finally came to a close after a skirmish in which Loki successfully captured Eris's queen, Eris's face broke out in a delighted grin.

"You're a fast learner," she declared happily, her blue eyes sparkling brightly. "You've got the basic rules down fully, and now you can start working on your strategies. Which means I'll have a decent opponent to play against, for once! I can't remember the last time I had a good game of chess."

Eris seemed genuinely pleased at his rapid progress, her satisfaction unmarred by any negative emotions. Loki had expected her to feel threatened, but instead she was joyful at the prospect of more challenging games to come. Her elation completely transformed her countenance. Whether manic or serene, Eris generally had an aura of unpredictability and malice. Loki didn't think he even fully recognized the presence of these traits in her, but Eris's current contentment made their absence clear. It was an unexpectedly charming juxtaposition.

Eris rolled one of her rooks in the palm of her hand, leaning back in her chair in relaxation.

"Certain people think that chess is a metaphor for life in human society," Eris said meditatively. "A fortunate few are born into positions of great power and influence, though most are very limited in their abilities and destinies. Yet occasionally, even the weakest can take down the strong, just as a pawn may capture a queen under the right conditions. And even the weakest can rise to the position of the powerful, as a pawn does when it finishes crossing the board."

"Is that what you believe?" Loki asked, curious.

Eris snorted dismissively. "I think life in general is too gloriously messy and complicated to be aptly compared to chess. No matter how brilliant or creative a chess player is, they are still bound by the rules of the game. Not even the greatest chess master in existence can make a rook move diagonally, for instance, or a pawn move backwards. Life, no matter how much you try to hedge it in with rules and laws, is never completely governed by them."

Eris's face once again took on the same thoughtful expression that it had when she spoke of the butterflies. "People like me shouldn't exist, after all. The fact that I possess a rare genetic mutation is within the rules of the game – mutations spontaneously appear in species all the time, and they are only completely weeded out if they prevent every carrier of that mutated gene to die out before they can procreate. But mutants? We defy scientific explanation."

"I know mutants like Scratch who can physically shape the world around them through only the power of their thoughts. I know mutants who can heal themselves rapidly without any detriment to themselves. Others can manipulate the elements or generate massive amounts of energy from their own body. All of this, seemingly in violation of laws of physics and biology. We're living, breathing contradictions."

Their acquaintance was still in its infancy, but Loki could say with authority that this was the most lucid he had seen Eris. The chess games had seemed to calm something inside her – she didn't seem as if she were on the verge of slipping into psychosis. Given that Eris seemed to teeter right on the edge of sanity half of the time, this was saying something indeed. This was obviously a side to Eris that few people had the opportunity to see.

"I don't believe I have ever heard you so contemplative before…"

"What were you expecting? You've known me for less than 72 hours. I wasn't aware that people who had just met in Asgard spent a great deal of time ruminating over deep questions of philosophical significance with one another."

"They don't. New acquaintances in Asgard prefer to compare muscle sizes and over-exaggerate battle stories while getting as drunk as possible."

"It sounds like you've spent your whole life living in a frat house," said Eris, chuckling. Loki looked at her perplexed.

"Don't worry about it," she told him, "it is enough to say that the social phenomenon you described exists here on Earth as well."

They were bantering, Loki realized. Exchanging quips back and forth with no hint of awkwardness or unease. It was comfortable. He would even describe it as friendly. Which was a scenario that they had resolved just hours ago to avoid. Either Eris was so good at sensing minute differences in emotions that she might as well have been reading his mind or, as Loki thought was more likely, her own train of thought led her in the very same direction his had followed. Her easy smile disappeared almost immediately and Eris abruptly and forcefully pushed her chair back from the table.

"I think that is enough entertainment for one day, don't you?" she asked rhetorically.

Eris began packing the chess set away, and Loki could almost feel the walls going back up around her. This was a woman who was not used to letting her guard down for any reason, and her spontaneous delight over the chess games was now being overridden by her typical stoic demeanor. When she turned her cool gaze back to him again, Eris was completely in control of herself; no hint of the gleeful young woman remained. Loki found himself obscurely disappointed at the change.

"We need to get you more clothing. You can't just live in what you're wearing now," Eris told him, her voice flat.

Loki was startled to realize that he hadn't even registered the fact that he was still wearing the same set of clothes Eris had given him yesterday. Granted, personal hygiene hadn't been the highest on his list of priorities recently, but he was appalled that he hadn't noticed that he only had one change of clothes. In Asgard, he wore fresh clothing every day, sometimes changing it more often, such as after a particular intensive exercise session or for the purpose of a formal dinner. Even though his current attire was much cleaner than what he had been wearing, it made Loki's skin crawl a little now that he was aware of his present state.

"Take a shower," Eris suggested tonelessly. "After, we'll go out and get you some other things to wear."

Loki's last view before he shut the bathroom door was Eris staring fixatedly at a black pawn she was holding in her hand. He recognized that the afternoon's diversion had soothed a hunger in him that had nothing to do with food or drink. His months on the street and the time leading up to his attempted invasion had been lonely – Loki had just never allowed himself to acknowledge it until now. And for all Loki's assurances that he didn't wish to think of Eris as a companion, she was the closest thing that he had to a friend in the universe at the moment.

Loki wasn't particularly certain of how to deal with this personal revelation, so he retreated to a coping mechanism that had worked so well for him during his exile on Midgard. He put it out of his mind, and proceeded to carry on with the task at hand.

…

_Just a fair warning, I am in the last push of summer session and the chances of me updating before July 25__th__ are pretty slim. Really sorry for the delay. But I hope you are all enjoying the story!_

_The good news is that I have made headway with some of the later chapters, so those will go much more quickly (I write like a crazy person, going back and forth through the story as inspiration strikes me). _


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